


to all the clichés i’ve done before

by catslikekenma



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Best Friends, Cliche, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:47:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22226632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catslikekenma/pseuds/catslikekenma
Summary: Hanamaki Takahiro is the great hater of clichés. Anyone in the world would tell you that—except Matsukawa Issei.
Relationships: Hanamaki Takahiro/Matsukawa Issei
Comments: 10
Kudos: 106





	to all the clichés i’ve done before

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I’ve been meaning to write something matsuhana for a while now and I’m happy I got to finish writing this one :) This idea has been swirling in my head for a long time and I finally got the right words to make it. 
> 
> I hope you like it!

There was always something about clichés.

Maybe it was because Takahiro always hated them. Despised them. _Loathed them_. He could go on for hours and hours just talking about how _dumb_ it was for two people to do fake dating and be in a fake relationship, knowing full well they’re just going to fall in love with each other, so why not just skip the fake dating part, right? Or how it’s probably not a good idea to lift up your significant other and kiss them in the rain, unless you want to get a cold and a fever the next day, or maybe have someone tuck your hair behind your ear and smile at you and say, “you’re beautiful” because what if your hair is not long enough to be tucked behind your ear? What happens then?

Takahiro always made it a point that none of those things are going to happen in real life — a _really_ strong and valid point. Issei thought it was funny though, how Takahiro complained about slow dancing in the comfort of your own room was “dumb as hell” with slow music “you could barely hear” playing in the background as you dance, hand to waist, forehead to forehead, and he ranted about how was it even possible to dance like that if you have an incredibly large amount of gap in your heights? 

“It’s ridiculous! How do people even come up with these things?!”

It always made Issei laugh, the kind of laugh that made the corners of his eyes crinkle, and Takahiro made it a point to _not_ say that out loud because Issei will never let him live that down. What Issei found funnier was the fact that Takahiro actually took his sweet time to watch those shows, only to make every single comment known to man. He literally sits through the entire two hours of whatever it was and point out what he thinks is a ‘waste of time’ while he sits on his living room couch, on a friday night, right after he declined every invitation to hang out with anyone. He didn’t know how, but Takahiro managed to actually convince Issei to sit with him through all of it. There was one time, Issei remembered, where Takahiro prepared a box of tissues for the sole reason that he might ‘cry because it’s so bad’, and he _did_ cry, and Issei knew it wasn’t because the movie was terrible, but because it was actually good and tugged a few heartstrings of his—but Takahiro will never admit that. He never does.

“So that ‘terrible’ huh.”

“Very terrible. Worst movie I ever watched.”

Takahiro blew his nose, and Issei let out another laugh. Takahiro was really bad at lying, Issei concluded. Or maybe he’s really good at it but Issei was the only one who could ever tell. Issei glanced at his watch and Takahiro immediately picked up on this.

“It’s getting late.”

“It is.” 

Takahiro reached for the remote control, and Issei knew him well enough to know that he was planning something.

“What ‘cha doing there.”

“Oh, you know.”

When Issei heard the familiar narration of a movie he was all too familiar with, he knew it was Takahiro’s way of saying ‘you should stay’ but wouldn’t say it because then it would lead to a series of events that Takahiro would deem as “cliché”. And everyone knew, Takahiro was the great hater of clichés. Snuggling further into his blanket, Takahiro turned to Issei.

“Cuddling isn’t gay.”

“Of course it’s not.”

“We should do it.”

“We always do.”

Issei chuckled softly to himself as Takahiro moved closer to him to lean his head on his chest. The living room was dim and quiet, the television was the only source of light and noise, and Issei decided to put his arm around Takahiro. 

_This is definitely not gay._

_Friends cuddle all the time._

_**Best friends.** _

The Notebook was playing on the television, and even though Takahiro would never say it, not even to Issei, they both knew it was his favorite. He watched it so often that Issei would bet _anyone_ that Takahiro memorized the most iconic lines from that movie, with confidence and actual money. The movie went on, and Issei found it hard to keep his eyes open. Takahiro noticed this and waited for a few more minutes before he was sure that Issei had already fallen asleep. With slow and quiet movements, he turned his head to look up at his sleeping best friend.

Issei’s head was leaned back on the couch, mouth slightly open and Takahiro found himself staring at his lips. It was crazy to see him like that—asleep, vulnerable, looking like he was tired from being the best boyfriend in the world. And he is, Takahiro told himself. Whoever it is that ends up with Issei also gets to be the luckiest person to ever exist because Issei is—well, perfect. Smiling to himself, Takahiro turned to lean his head back on Issei’s chest.

For all the times Takahiro had cuddled with him, it was always Issei who had fallen asleep first. _Always._ Takahiro wasn’t complaining—in fact, he fights his hardest every time to be the last one to fall asleep. Not because it was a competition, but because Issei’s heartbeat is the last thing he wanted to hear before he closed his eyes and drifted to sleep. Takahiro listened to it so often he could tell when Issei was still awake—his heart pounds relentlessly through his chest and Takahiro always fought himself from asking if there was something wrong because he knew Issei’s heartbeat would start to slow down soon, until it finds its perfect pace; calm, even, serene. Issei had finally fallen asleep.

_“So it’s not going to be easy. It’s going to be really hard,”_

There was always something about clichés.

Maybe it was because Takahiro hated them for being so predictable and overused that he doesn’t even notice himself that he’s turning into one of those characters he always insulted, called dumb for believing in something like love at first sight. And maybe he hated them because they _are_ him, with the sparkling heart-shaped eyes, wide smile, and cheesy narrations that are actually just his thoughts and _damn_ , why must it be him?

_“We’re gonna have to work at this everyday,”_

But Takahiro supposes you meet someone who makes you want it; the good morning texts, the cuddles, the forehead kisses—all of it. Takahiro hated clichés for making him realize that he’s longing for Issei’s hugs, the kind where he rests his chin on top of his head, or longing to hear Issei’s jokes and tell him it’s the worst joke he’s ever heard but Takahiro laughs anyway, or simply just—longing for someone with the broad shoulders, thick eyebrows, and black hair, for someone who put the stars in the sky and the sun in his smile. Clichés make Takahiro long for something he couldn’t have and _hated_ it, he hated it so much.

_“But I want to do that because I want you.”_

As Takahiro closed his eyes that night, he clutched Issei’s shirt as he realized he had done the greatest cliché of all time—falling in love with his best friend.

_“I want all of you, forever, everyday.”_

And no one else in the world knew, not even the man sleeping right next to him.

**Author's Note:**

> Shoutout to my unwavering beta reader, Darla, I really appreciate you so much. I get the confidence to publish something because of you and your comments. Thank you!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!


End file.
